


This is Beauty

by ShesAKillerQueen98



Series: One Shot Fluffs [7]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anxious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has Self-Esteem Issues (Good Omens), Aziraphale Is Trying (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale Needs a Hug (Good Omens), Aziraphale Whump (Good Omens), Aziraphale is a Mess (Good Omens), Caring Crowley (Good Omens), Chubby Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Has Feelings (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is a Sweetheart (Good Omens), Crying Aziraphale (Good Omens), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Forehead Kisses, Gabriel Being an Asshole (Good Omens), Gay, Gentle Crowley (Good Omens), Gentle Kissing, Gentleness, Hugs, Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Ineffable Wives | Female Aziraphale/Female Crowley (Good Omens), Internalized Fatphobia, Mentioned Gabriel (Good Omens), POV Aziraphale (Good Omens), Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Sad Aziraphale (Good Omens), Self-Esteem, Self-Esteem Issues, She/Her Pronouns for Aziraphale (Good Omens), She/Her Pronouns for Crowley (Good Omens), So Married, Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens), Soft Crowley (Good Omens), Supportive Crowley (Good Omens), Tenderness, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Whump, Worried Aziraphale (Good Omens), fatphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 07:53:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30119544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShesAKillerQueen98/pseuds/ShesAKillerQueen98
Summary: Aziraphale wants to get a short, tight skirt, because she thinks it'll make Crowley happy, but she only succeeds in making herself uncomfortable. Luckily Crowley is there to comfort her.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: One Shot Fluffs [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2164884
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	This is Beauty

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Internalized fat phobia, body image insecurity, and negative use of the word "fat"

It had seemed like a fine idea at the time.

Crowley was always wearing those tight clothes and she was always making sweet little comments on how much she loved Aziraphale’s body, and of course Aziraphale loved making her Crowley smile. So the logical thing to do was to go out and buy something tight that Crowley might enjoy on her.

She had seemed quite confident when she’d walked into the store, but as soon as she began looking at the array of short skirts they carried, her confidence dwindled. Not enough to make her turn around and forget her plan, but dwindled nonetheless. The angel’s knowledge of fashion ended around 150 years ago so she was feeling more than a little overwhelmed but was too embarrassed to ask for help from one of the employees. Finally, after perhaps twenty minutes of looking, Aziraphale found a shirt that would do.

It didn’t leave much to the imagination, it was essentially just a short tube of brown leather. But this seemed like something Crowley would like, so Azirpahale steeled herself as she took the skirt from the rack and slipped into one of the dressing rooms.

She was able to get the skirt on without much of a problem but as soon as she zipped it up, a squeezing feeling tugged her stomach, hips, and upper thighs. She could easily move like this, but moving _comfortably_ was another question entirely.

The changing room was fairly spacey so Aziraphale was able to walk around for a few steps to get used to the feel of the skirt squeezing her body as she walked. Okay, she could do this. She took a few more steps and felt an annoying itch on the inner part of her thighs. Oh dear, she had forgotten about this…well it wasn’t too awful, she could just ignore it.

Her eyes fell on her reflection in the mirror and her confidence dwindled even more.

Even though the skirt was a size 17, it still looked a bit tight on Aziraphale, hugging her hips and thighs. It landed about six inches above the knee, which was far more skin than she was used to showing.

A look at her pale thighs and legs, the leather garment showing every inch of curve and fat along her frame was all it took to make Aziraphale’s face turn a very hot shade of crimson. She wasn’t used to this, not in the slightest. But it would make Crowley happy.

The angel sighed and pulled off the leather skirt, pulling on her khaki corduroy pants that she’d come in with and bashfully walked from the changing room to the counter, still blushing the entire way. Goodness, she must have looked ridiculous, paying the young woman behind the counter while completely red in the face, hopefully no one got the wrong sort of idea.

The skirt was folded and tucked into a bad and Aziraphale was sent on her way as she stepped from the shop into the warm, early spring sunlight.

Most of the schools and universities were closed for spring holidays so the streets were crowded with young folk looking to kill some time or on their way to some kind of event with groups of friends.

As if part of some cruel joke, all the young people Aziraphale passed were relatively healthy and toned, at least they were in comparison to her. Some of the you women in the groups were even wearing skirts similar to the one she just bought, only in their cases, the fact that the fabric hugged their frames was a positive rather than a negative.

Aziraphale sighed, remembering Gabriel’s comment from several months ago, just before the apocalypse.

“ _Lose the gut._ ”

The same creeping feeling of shame that had bloomed through Aziraphale’s chest then was beginning to spread through her once again.

No, no. Enough. We don’t need to think of that.

Besides, Crowley had gone to great lengths to remind her that her body was perfectly beautiful. She might not have believed her, but it was kind of the dear girl to say in any sense.

By the time Aziraphale made it back to the bookshop, it was nearing 4:30. Crowley had agreed to come visit around 5:00.

The bell over the door jingled merrily as Aziraphale stepped into the shop, sending the cheerful sound throughout the empty building. She wandered to the little washroom in the back of the shop (for legal reasons, she was required to have one. For her own personal reasons, she made it as difficult to locate as possible) and made quick work of changing into her new skirt, trying not to cringe to fiercely at the amount of skin she was once again showing as she folded her trousers, snapping them up to the dresser in her bedroom.

As she usually was when I came to waiting for Crowley to arrive, the angel was rather fidgety and needed to do something to keep her nerves from going utterly off the charts. She settled on re-shelving some of the books on one of the bottom shelves in the sciences section to the top shelf in the biographies section. Perfect to properly confuse any customers that came through tomorrow.

As she made her way up the ladder, her arms full of books, the itch on her thighs began to worsen, growing from an annoyance to a full on distraction. Usually, she’d wear a pair of pants of a skirt that reached her shins (at the shortest) and she usually wore a comfy pair of combinations1 underneath, along with a more modern pair of knickers, which kept the skin on her shins from rubbing together. But a set of full combinations just wouldn’t work with this skirt. She supposed she could try a pair of modern thighs, though the last time she put a some on, she could hardly breathe and they began to tear within two hours. Better than than-

“Hey, Angel.”

Oh dear, oh goodness.

Aziraphale placed one of the books on the shelf and looked over her shoulder. Crowley was waiting in the doorway, her hands tucked into the pockets of her impossibly tight pants (how Crowley managed to fit anything in those pockets of hers was a mystery not even Holmes could solve).

“Oh…h-hello, darling, I’ll be down in a moment, I just need to finish rearranging.”

Look busy, look busy!

Her hands fumbled as she took the last book from the pile and looked at the cover while pretending to be deep in thought (but in reality was just panicking and hoping to God that she looked collected) before placing it on a random spot on the shelf. She would most definitely curse herself later when she didn’t remember where she put it.

“Something’s different about you, Angel.” Crowley said, her voice lowering to a flirtatious purr.

“Oh, i-is there?” Aziraphale did her best to flirt back, but in truth, she sounded just as nervous as she felt. The angel wasn’t usually a very confident flirt, so Crowley likely chalked it up to her getting flustered the way she usually did (Crowley had also once confided in Aziraphale that she found it incredibly cute the way she would blush and stammer).

“Yeah, there is.” Crowley said, taking off her glasses and setting them on a nearby stack of books. “Why don’t you come down here so I can see you better?” She asked with a sly grin as she stepped to the base of the ladder. Where it not so tight, Aziraphale was certain that Crowley would be able to see up her skirt and would have a clear view of her knickers.

Aziraphale heaved out a breath and began to slowly descend the ladder. Once she reached the second to last step, a pair of strong arms circled her waist and lifted her from the ladder, setting her gently on the floor. Slowly, Aziraphale turned around, her forehead level with Crowley’s nose, doing her best to keep her fidgeting and nervous gulps to a minimum. Luckily, it seemed Crowley hadn’t noticed, since she was still smiling.

“So what is it about you that’s different…” Crowley said, drawing a bit closer, tracing her hands down Aziraphale’s arms.

The angel’s heart rate was beginning to pick up and her whole body was pulsing. That damn skirt was squeezing her too tight and she hated it!

“Dove?” Crowley said gently. Oh blast! She’d cringed, she hadn’t been able to hold it back and now Crowley had noticed and she’d be upset! “Are you alright?” Aziraphale nodded, her eyes still closed. A gentle hand settled under her chin, lifting her face. “Angel, look at me please.” Crowley asked, the flirtatious purr from moments ago was long gone, replaced by something tender and comforting.

Slowly, Aziraphale opened her eyes and looked at Crowley’s face, full of concern and gentle worry.

“Please, tell me what’s wrong.” The demon begged, placing a delicate hand against Aziraphale’s face. The angel leaned into the touch, rubbing her face against Crowley’s warm palm as her thumb traced the plump cheek.

“It’s dreadfully foolish.” Azirpahale whispered.

Crowley laid a gentle kiss on her forehead. “It’s the skirt, isn’t it?” She asked softly.

Aziraphale scrunched her eyes closed again and nodded. She couldn’t even do this one blasted thing right! She just wanted to do something nice for her girlfriend and she couldn’t do it!

“I’m sorry.” Aziraphale whispered. I just feel so uncomfortable wearing it. I feel so naked and exposed and my thighs won’t stop rubbing together and everyone can see just how fat and disgusting I am but you’re always wearing those lovely tight clothes and you always say how much you love my body so I thought you would like this but I can’t do it! I can’t do it I can’t do this one thing for you!”

By now there were tears in her eyes and she wanted nothing more than to escape up to her bedroom and hide from everyone. She was so bloody pathetic. She couldn’t even-

“Oh, Angel.” Crowley cooed, cupping Aziraphale’s face and kissing the tears away. “I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have to wear something if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Aziraphale sniffled. “But I…I just wanted to d-do something nice for you.”

“If you want to do something nice for me, a bottle of alcohol is perfect. But you don’t have to alter yourself because you think I’ll like it.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s altering myself. I’m just wearing something new.”

Crowley gave her a look. “Angel, would you wear it even if I wasn’t involved? Just happened to see it in a store? Would you wear it then?”

Aziraphale sighed and shook her head.

“You shouldn’t have to wear it.” Crowley said as she took a step back and snapped her fingers. In her hands was a wool, khaki skirt and a light blue knit jumper, and even a pair of combinations, all summoned from Aziraphale’s wardrobe upstairs. They were some of Aziraphale’s favorite things to wear.

“I like you best when you’re comfortable and when you’re happy.” Crowley said, pressing the clothes into Aziraphale’s arms and kissing her forehead again. Aziraphale sighed, admitting defeat as she took the clothes and wandered back into the little washroom. She sighed as she changed into the set of familiar soft clothes. She couldn’t deny that they were comforting, but she also couldn’t stop the feeling of failure sinking into her stomach like a glass of milk that had gone sour. She had wanted to do this. She had wanted to make Crowley happy but all she’d done was disappointed her. That’s all she ever did. As the quartermaster had so eloquently put it, she was a pathetic excuse for an angel.

She puled the jumper over her head and felt a little bit more like herself…every fat part of her.

She sighed as she held the leather skirt in her hands. Perhaps Crowley would want it. After all, she was actually comfortable in tight clothes. What was more, they actually looked good on her, with her long, beautiful slender legs, angular hips, ever inch of Crowley’s body was utter perfection. There were times when Aziraphale wondered why Crowley even bothered with her. She was fat and boring.

She sniffled a few times, brushing the tears from her cheeks and splashing some cold water on her face before rejoining Crowley in the main area of the shop, leaning with her shoulder pressed against one of the bookshelves. So suave. How in the world did she even do it?

When she heard the sound of the angel approaching, Crowley glanced in the direction of the washroom, a grin coming to her lips, though it quickly melted away when she saw the morose look on Aziraphale’s face.

“Angel, what’s wrong?” She asked, bridging the distance between the tow of them and wrapping her arms around Aziraphale again.

“Darling, why are you even with me?” Aziraphale sniffled, more tears threatening to fall from her eyes. She buried her face in Crowley’s boney chest as the demon gently stroked Aziraphale’s blonde curls. “You’re so beautiful and talented and you could have anyone you wanted, but you’ve stuck yourself with me. I’m old fashioned, boring, fussy, and fat. I can’t even wear a bloody skirt without upsetting myself-“

“Stop.” Crowley said sharply, a pain in her voice. “Don’t you dare say such horrible things about yourself.”

A sob threatened to shake Aziraphale’s body. “They’re true, are they not?”

Crowley sighed, pressing a kiss to the crown of blonde curls in Aziraphale’s head.

“Well, let’s see.” She said. “Old fashioned. I have had to drag you into the twenty-first century kicking and screaming, but I love the way you dress, the way you speak, the way you act. It’s classic. It’s _you_. It makes you happy, so it makes me happy.” She gave Aziraphale a smile, setting her hand against her plump cheek. “Boring.” She pressed a chaste kiss to the angel’s lips. “Not in the slightest. You take things at your own pace. Sometimes the world is just too fast and you need the slow and steady to make you get your head back on straight. The moments I spend with you, just sitting on the couch, staying up until one in the morning talking about a book you’re engrossed in. My head in your lap while you run your fingers through my hair. Watching your face light up when you see a plate of crepes or a new book. Just feeling cozy and safe around you…Angel, I wouldn’t trade that for anything.” She pressed another little kiss to Aziraphale’s lips, deepening it after a moment. “What was next? Fussy?” Aziraphale nodded. “Right, well that’s just another wonderful thing about you. They you hound me to wear something warm before going outside. The way you take your tea with three lumps of sugar and a dash of cream, not a drop more. The way you have your own way of arranging your books that nobody understands but you, but you keep it that way so no one touches them. They way if someone so much as sneezes, you begin doting on them and getting them back to health. You’re fussy because it shows you care.”

She pulled the angel close to her, nuzzling her nose into the platinum curls.

“And the last one, Crowley?” Aziraphale said, her voice tense as her chest tightened.

Crowley said nothing, but took a gentle hold of Aziraphale’s shoulders and turned her around, so her back was flush with the demon’s chest. Slowly, reverently, Crowley traced a hand along the angel’s plump stomach. She leaned in close, nosing along the crook of Aziraphale’s neck, curls of soft blonde hair tracing her sharp cheeks.

“You are fat dove, and I love it. Plush and soft. The perfect shape. You feel so right in my arms. I adore your soft hips, your beautiful thighs, your lovely, round tummy. I hold you in my arms and I feel like I’m holding the most precious, beautiful thing in existence.”

Aziraphale sighed sadly. “You needn’t be such a flatterer, dear.” She said dismally.

A thin hand traced her jawline, duding her to look to her right, where she saw Crowley resting her chin on her shoulder, wrapped in the soft blue jumper. There was pain in her eyes and when she next spoke, it was soft, barely above a whisper, just gracing the inside of Aziraphale’s ear.

“I know beauty, Angel. I made the stars, saw their bright burning glow up close, held their warmth in my palms, felt them beat and pulse as if they were living. I know what beauty is.” She traced her hands along Aziraphale’s stomach. “And this is beauty.” She reached a little lower, just tracing along her waist to her hips, setting her hands there, cradling the angel with gentle fingers. “This is beauty.” Her arms moved to settle on Aziraphale’s shoulder, her hands clasping at each other as she pulled the angel closer, wanting to keep her as close as possible, safe, warm, and loved until the end of time.

Content and warmed, Aziraphale leaned her head against Crowley’s as she pressed a sweet, tender kiss against a lovely plump cheek, hoping with every ounce of her being that Aziraphale knew how much she meant it.

“This is beauty.”

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. A set of combinations is a one piece undergarment popular in Victorian and Edwardian times, also known as a pair of bodies.[Here](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/171981279494502873/) is a picture of one if you're curious.
> 
> NOTE: This is my first time trying to footnote something, I know nothing about coding, so if it doesn't work, I'm sorry and I will gladly except help to try and fix it.
> 
> Hello everyone! Thank you so much for reading! I hope you liked this story. I personally struggle with body image issues from time to time and writing this honestly helped me get a bit of closure about myself. I hope it was good for you as well. If you liked it, kudos and comments are always so very appreciated, make me smile and fuel my writing. Thank you all for reading and have a lovely day


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